Playing in the Dark
by death-in-the-orchard
Summary: Alucard hunts for a target and is joined by Father Anderson. The No-Life-King enjoys himself at the Priest's expense.


This has been sitting in my laptop for months…I've been cleaning out my folders since yesterday…

Toying with things.

You might want to look up: "The Brown Lady of Raynham." (if you want to)

* * *

The creaking of the floorboards clawed at the black boots, as if the boney fingers of the dead dwellers were tearing at the demon's presence. They wanted to pull him into the haunting realm, where they drifted, but he was beyond the veil between this world and the next. The crimson trench coat and black hair combed the air as Alucard walked, meaning to snag the weaker spirits that wandered too close. A figure entered his line of sight, so Alucard came to a stop in the hall, crimson eyes flashing before they thinned. His lips twitched. Though she could clearly see Alucard, the woman remained before him, draped in brown, adorned with lace woven by spiders. A phantom of elegance.

The nosferatu's fangs filled a humored smile, and he tipped his head to acknowledge the old noble customs she had once known. The Lady of Raynham, Lady Dorothy, observed the creature in silence, drawn to his eerie presence. Her senses had been plucked minutes ago when the vampire had entered her home, when she had felt a haunting presence, a cold breath caressing her bones – and this breath had drawn her from her hiding place beneath the floorboards where she had rested upon silky webs. The Lady had experienced the long forgotten sensation of blood chilling in her veins, though she had been dead for centuries and had wandered since her death as the primary haunt of this house. Raynham was home, her prison, and her final resting place. However, Alucard inspired both a sense of fear and a sense of peace within her.

Lady Dorothy sensed other footsteps treading on her wooden floors, feeling them as pricks that traveled up her arm. So another was here…and would soon find her.

But she did not care for the other while the vampire stood before her. She did not recognize what he was immediately. But slowly, she knew that he was kin. Alucard stepped towards her. Now he was a little more than an arm length away. But she did not move. She was calm, she was also afraid – yet she stayed… waiting for what was to come.

Crimson eyes searched for her thoughts, and concluded that Lady Dorothy had no intention of resisting. It was time; her form was withered, starved of blood which left her closer to death than to life - her hair was white and she viewed her undead intruder with sunken, black eyes. Any action on his part would merely press her gently over the threshold.

"My Lady. What have you chosen?" A placid smile retained the ancient respect, though part of it felt like a game. He was humoring prey. But she was uncommon prey – old and tame.

The response was slow to come, and her voice was quiet. The isolated moment was ending. "I have been a prisoner within the confines of my own home… For too long have I lingered here, when I had no reason to… The remains of my jailer have rotted away in his grave. I have nothing to keep me. And I do not wish to stay."

Molten crimson watched the Lady. Her face was not firm, not set with anything as hard as determination. But it was at ease. Gradually the vampire nodded, faintly pleased with a monster that had not descended into depravity, that had retained some humanity while condemned to an existence that was thrown upon her, as if to test the limits of her internal goodness. She was not weak. The Lady retained a peculiar breed of honor. So yes. This was a rare creature, but not a magnificent creature - just a creature often overlooked as they go about their quiet haunts. They are the ones who wander and do not seek sustenance from the Earth, while it is others who hunger after them. Her death had been ordered because her existence was known – no deaths had brought the No-Life-King to Raynham.

He removed the Jackal from its holster, but as it made its ascension Alucard leapt back with a sudden jolt, dodging the deadly force that impaled the withered Lady from behind and sent her stumbling forward. She won the struggle to remain on her feet, black, sunken eyes gaping at Alucard - withered lips parted. With so little blood in her body, only a red dampness appeared around the blades that stuck through her chest, smoke slivering up the length of holy bayonets. Alucard observed the blade protruding from her brow, the eyes that showed shock, the sizzle of undead flesh charred by holy wrath, and he listened to the unhallowed wail as the dead nature rebelled against the clinging veil while it wrapped tighter and tighter, strangling her, dragging her spirit from her dead flesh – until she passed over the threshold.

Lady Dorothy's form transmuted into solid ash and dust, which then crumbled and broke across the wooden flooring, filling the crevices - where they would remain. Small fragments of bone scattered as quietly as bits of falling sand, and these pieces of the ancient haunt were also lost.

The vampire stood quietly before the decimated pile after the change was complete. Then Alucard lifted his gaze to the Priest, and his eager grin and scorching leer revealed his indifference towards the Lady's demise. He preferred this foe – this was no withered victim, no monster with fragments of dignity and honor caught like wisps of color in whitened hair, remnants of youthful humanity that persist in an ancient corpse. This was youthful humanity, vibrant and in full bloom. The demon took pleasure in Father Anderson's fiendish smirk.

"Priest."

The lingering haunts fled down the empty corridors and sought the safer shadows of cobwebbed rooms.

The sound of pages turning breathed against the walls, though the effect was entirely imagined. "'The Lord will march out like a champion, like a warrior he will stir up his zeal;'" Father Anderson made his lumbering advance, his voice deepening with a heavy and building roar, "'with a SHOUT he will raise the battle cry and will TRIUMPH over his enemies!'"

Oh, these nostalgic verses acquired a renewed greatness from the Judas' voice. The words of a rejected god became so repulsively delightful, and the vampire's fangs glinted as his eyes sparked with his demented pleasure.

With thin sprays of blood and smoke, two bayonets sunk into the demon's torso, but Alucard waited for the lunging Priest to reach him. His eyes caught fire and his lips spread with the fluidity of clouds revealing a crescent moon - the rivals grinned at the other's bloodlust – manic pleasure warping living and undead features. The Cassul flashed forth as Alucard plunged forward. A metal mouth met with the paladin's brow, blasting a wound that resembled the late Lady Dorothy's. A bayonet speared Alucard's throat before he noticed it, and then three more had impaled him - his right lung, his leg, and the arm that held the Jackal was limp at his side. Blood was rushing in torrents down his arm, coating the Jackal. But it was ecstasy_, it was ecstasy! Oh, for all the carnage to be had in this world, this was beyond the powers of fantasized desire! The burning! The building, blazing hunger! _Both of the magnificent and monstrous beings wore their passion in the muscles of their faces, diving past one another, to switch positions, to lunge, to clash again.

Blood whipped across walls and wooden panels, it rained and splattered, slopped and pooled - tainting the peaceful haunt with violence. Alucard's eyes tracked the damage his indulgence was creating, and so allowed the Priest to force him back until he could reach a window. As he entered the night air, a crash resounded behind him – Father Anderson falling with the shards of the shattered window pane. With a grunt the priest stuck the ground hard, landing in a crouch as glass pierced or bounced off his muscled back. The heat of his breath fogged his glasses as it rose as a wispy cloud into the night sky.

When Father Anderson stood and faced the demon waiting before him – watching the ebony hair writhe as molten eyes howled with pleasure - blood ran from a wound on his scarred cheek. But the wound healed, leaving only the trail of blood. Father Anderson smeared it with his sleeve and returned to a ready stance, watching the vampire that waited before him. With this his excitement peaked, and the holy man released a blast of mad, uncontrolled laughter, which the demon joined with both guns directed at the Priest just as bayonets filled Father Anderson's fingers.

Projectiles were exchanged, each dodging the strikes as they sprinted over the empty lawn. A clouded sky provided almost no moonlight. But the darkness was the flesh of the vampire, and Father Anderson could see well enough to not be at a significant disadvantage. A lens over one of his eyes was cracked and clouded with a crimson smudge, but this impairment was nothing to him.

Steam rose from Father Anderson, weaving over the grass as his wounds healed. They examined one another, tested their bodies and strength, neither were being pushed back or overwhelmed – both seemed to lead in this deathly waltz. They continued with blasting fire and sparking clashes – blades screaming and gunshots blaring – much of their violence struck the house. Raynham was only sparred once the vampire and the paladin had taken their battle into the forest. They were not visible, but their distributed shouts and barking laughter could be heard, sounding in the night. Eventually Alucard melded into the darkness, and quiet fell, leaving the paladin to creep among the trees – an impatient pursuit ensuing.

It was a new game, but it only aggravated Father Anderson. His bloodlust throbbed behind his eyes, and he snarled at the shadows. "Demon Spawn!"

Father Anderson heard his own voice echo as he froze to listen for a sign of movement. But silence crept closer, surrounding him, which brought him further from the battle he hungered for. Blunt teeth grated against one another, and muscles tensed with rage. "_VAMPIRE!_"

"Impatient Judas."

Father Anderson sought to pin point the beast, turning towards the shadowy figures of the trees – but he could not tell where the voice had come from. It seemed to disperse in all directions, and yet come towards him from all sides. Then, there was nothing above him. Not even the moon – only clouds that pretended to be an empty abyss.

There was nothing below his feet but years of foliage that crunched and cracked occasionally beneath his boots as he proceeded to stalk his hidden prey. Besides his own footsteps, only silence wandered through the trees of the forest.

"Vampire!" Father Anderson stopped and listened, growling at the darkness. His fists tightened around his bayonets which waited at his sides. The blades too, though dulled by shadows, searched for the demon as they yearned for combat, yearned to soar and pierce and butcher the monster. But the lull persisted, and the priest began to question whether the vampire had fled. So he called out again - the fire he had so far born, beginning to cool. "Demon Spawn!"

"There is no moon tonight, Priest. Nothing but stars beyond this forming storm. …A pity."

"Where are you, Demon?" The man's snarl lifted the corner of the vampire's lips as he listened to Father Anderson's increasing frustration.

"Why?"

Father Anderson glowered at the darkness, hissing at the humored tone while he searched, blindly, for the vampire. "Come out!" he barked. But his rage went unrewarded.

"Find me. One who cannot find his prey deserves to go hungry."

"Why do you hide from me, Vampire? Do you fear death? Now that it has come?"

There was a chuckle that shimmered through the leaves. Father Anderson looked up into the branches and picked out various shapes. He found nothing but tree limbs and leaves. "You think that I cannot slay you?"

"Oh, I would love for you to slay me, Judas Priest. _Slay me_. …Yes. Cut off my head, spill my blood, rip out my innards – _slaughter me._ Priest. I would enjoy nothing more. I would destroy you as you destroy me – and it would be wonderful – however, tonight there is no moon. Tonight is not a night for either of us to die. It is dark, and I am near you, but you cannot find me. Hunt me down if you hunger for my head, but I am not satisfied with this night. Give me a reason to come out, and I will do so."

The wind was growing in strength, nipping at Father Anderson's blades. They were spared when the priest stabbed them through the foliage and into the earth with a growl, after which he stood to face the darkness without them. "Feh." He spat out the sound of abhorrence, and set his jaw with a hard scowl. "Draw you out? Hunt you down? Come out on your own, Monster. Come out and be slaughtered - if that is what you want. I'll do it. I'll gladly kill you…" The deep and accented voice rumbled through the silent trees, over the dead leaves that blanketed their roots.

"No. The thrill is gone. The night is wrong. You cannot find me. I can see you clearly, but you are blind."

"Fight me!" The man roared into the darkness, and hissed through aggravation and hatred when nothing emerged.

The trees shivered as their leaves were dusted with fine specks of water, and branches groaned as the chill hurt their aged limbs. "Have you found me?" Alucard asked. The amused purr tormented Father Anderson.

"Fight! You Unholy Creature!"

"What are you accustomed to? Do you pray when you yearn for something, Priest?"

Father Anderson let out an unintelligible roar, tearing his bayonets from the earth and bounding forward – bounding towards nothing but his loathing for the monster. "Come out, Demon! How dare you hide, Vampire Alucard? Come to me!" Blunted teeth snapped and grinded.

"I am not hiding… I am _waiting_, Priest. Ask your God to find me, if it is beyond your power. It cannot possibly be beyond His."

"Come before me, and let me tear your filthy, godforsaken tongue from your throat! I'll cut off your head! I'll do it again, Demon! And more! -You won't be able to heal yourself once I've filled your demon carcass with my blades tonight, Vampire! I'll skewer you like a boar! And you'll roast in the fires of Hell!"

"How delicious."

"_Come out!"_

"Find me, beloved Judas."

Father Anderson seemed to be seized by an epileptic fit – he shook as his face cooked with ire and his teeth were bared with rage. In the midst of this fit, the priest released his fury on tree, mutilating its trunk before marching through the forest with his blades plowing the soil. Crashing through the leaves like a feral beast, his boots marched forward with no destination. "Fight and die. Fight and die, Demon! Fight me and _die!_"

With a change in the wind, Father Anderson's march slowed as the undead words carried. The man stood with the pit that contained his hatred for the vampire growing beside his heart.

"'_A man in the wilderness_

_Asked this of me,_

_"How many strawberries_

_Grow in the sea?"_

_I answered him_

_As I thought good,_

_"As many red herrings_

_As swim in the wood."'"_

With a snarl, blades dug into the foliage and flung the cast off leaves and twigs, cursing all things evil. Leaving scars in the earth and trees where he stopped, Father Anderson prowled through the darkness hissing and damning the creature that mocked him.

"Damn Spawn of Satan, cease your hiding! Come out! Face me!"

The same voice wove about the priest, and tugged playfully at his rage and blew upon his temper to watch it grow. It was as if the vampire were basking in the flames of the man's fury.

"' _If wishes were horses,_

_Then beggars would ride.'"_

"'_I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day,_

_I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play._

_And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,_

_And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good._

_My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,_

_And I must be off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer._

_I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,_

_No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes._

_But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,_

_And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.'"_

The priest continued to stalk through the trees as the demon's voice taunted him.

"'_Blue flames and red flames_

_In a world all dark;_

_Blue flames and red flames,_

_And a tiny spark_

_Hurrying to heaven, lest it should be late;_

_Lest the cautious seraphim close the shining gate,_

_And leave the little wanderer forevermore to fly_

_Like an orphan angel through the endless sky.'"_

The rain strengthened and the wind moaned, buffeting treetops and slanting raindrops that struck Father Anderson. As the storm grew, the holy garments clung tighter to seek warmth from the priest's skin. Father Anderson knew, and dreaded, what was next to come from the demon's putrid lips.

"'_The rain is falling all around,_

_It falls on field and tree,_

_It rains on the umbrellas here,_

_And on the ships at sea.'"_

"'_Rain on the green grass;_

_Rain on the tree;_

_Rain on the housetop,_

_But not on me!'"_

"Are you cold, Judas?"

"Monster. Poisonous wretched fiend." The growl was quieter, as were the man's footsteps. He did not want to admit defeat, even in this situation, even for something as absurd as this game, but his persistence was only serving as entertainment for the undead creature.

"'_For every evil under the sun_

_There is a remedy or there is none._

_If there be one, seek till you find it;_

_If there be none, never mind it.'"_

"I know the remedy to your evil, Vampire. Come. Or will you only sit in the shadows and mock me while you hide from your fate? I will let the Lord send your cursed form to Hell."

"'_I see the moon_

_and the moon sees me_

_The moon sees the somebody I'd like to see._

_God bless the moon_

_and God bless me_

_God bless the somebody I'd like to see!'"_

The demon chuckled.

"I see the Priest

But he can't see me

The owls see the monster he wants to see.

God damn the night

And God damn me

God damn everything the Priest cannot see."

"Your words are foul, Demon Spawn. Stay here and _drown_. I will kill you another night." Holy hands reached into the priest's clinging smock and sought the Holy pages that had remained dry. The hands paused as Father Anderson listened to the vampire's voice when Alucard responded.

"' _Good night, sleep tight,_

_Wake up bright_

_In the morning light_

_To do what's right_

_With all your might.'"_

The demon was clearly on the ground now, and the voice came from a single direction. There was no need to turn. Green eyes rose and peered into the darkness that draped between the trees ahead. The vampire's crescent smile wavered in the gloom, but it faded before the man could replace the pages with his bayonets. So the priest stood alone in the forest, chilled and dripping, while the Vampire Alucard was most likely swimming through the shadows and laughing at his failure.


End file.
